The one that hurts most
by MBP
Summary: Pony became close to his English teacher when he needed to plan a memorial for Johnny, and he relied on her when he lost Two Bit years later. But will even she be able to help him when Soda gets sent to Vietnam? It's somehow become a series.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own The Outsiders.

High school English teachers get kids at their best. We learn more about them than their other teachers because they write for us, and sometimes they even talk to us. Occasionally, we even keep in touch with them after graduation. Ponyboy Curtis is the student I think of most when I think of how lucky I am to have my job. He and I went through plenty when I first met him five years ago after two of his friends had died tragically. He was actually switched into my class that year because his guidance counselor thought it would help him. It ended up helping both of us. He ended up getting the support he so desperately needed from an adult at that time, and I got one of the most wonderful students I've ever had the chance to teach.

I kept in touch with him through letters while he was at college, and then just last year, he lost another friend in a car accident. He came home, and I was one of the first people he called. Even though the whole thing broke my heart, I was so glad he'd called me. I told him then that I hoped he always would if he needed to. I just never expected another call so shortly after we all lost Two Bit…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Still belongs to Hinton.

When the last bell finally rang at 2:30, I settled back at my desk with a sigh. I've been teaching for almost ten years, but I never get tired of that sound. I had plenty of work to do, so I was planning on grading some papers in school and then driving home at about 4. My mother stays with my son, and I didn't want to keep her there too long, but as long as she's home before 5, she never seems to mind.

I was going through a set of papers when one stopped me. My students were writing their themes, and one of the kids chose to write about the day his brother received his draft notice. I'd noticed that Tom had seemed a little quieter lately, and I made a mental note to be gentler with him. He's one of my self-proclaimed tough guys, but I learned early on that the tougher they are, the harder they fall. He's one of the kids I normally enjoy teasing, so I stared at his paper, trying to decide what kind of comment to leave, and settled on, "I hope everyone's doing ok with this (including you). You know I'm here if you need to talk about anything." A lot of my colleagues would laugh at that last part, but they also would never expect how often my students take me up on an offer like that. I fully anticipated Tom to be one of them. I couldn't imagine that there were many other people he'd feel comfortable talking to.

I finished ten papers when I decided it was time to pack up and go. It was almost 4:00, and I was so ready to go home. I had a feeling the next day would be a long one.

When I walked in the door, James came toddling toward me from the couch. He's almost two and is absolutely the light of my life. I knelt and threw open my arms as he walked shakily into them. I scooped him up and covered his face with kisses, and my mother smiled as she walked over to me. She grabbed her jacket and was putting it on as she told me about their day, and then she kissed me goodbye, and we were on our own until my husband got home.

By the time we had James settled in his crib at 8:30 and had a chance to have an adult conversation, I was ready for bed. It is so hard for the two of us to break out of our routine, but I also find it comforting. Our world is unstable enough these days that I'm almost grateful for the structure.

The next morning, I was on my way the moment my mother arrived, and I waited for my first class of 11th graders with their papers in my hand. I wanted to get them back to them as quickly as possible, so Tom would at least know I'd at least read it and understood as much as I could. Once they were all seated, I walked around, giving back their themes as they settled in and started answering the question I'd written on the board: "if you could go back in time and change anything, what would it be?" It tied in nicely with the chapters we were reading in _Catcher in the Rye_, and I glanced over Tom's shoulder before I dropped his paper on his desk.

_If I could change anything? Well, for one thing, I'd have burned the envelope before John ever got home that day, so he wouldn't be headed there now…_ I didn't say anything. I just put his paper down, but I squeezed his shoulder as I passed, and he glanced up at me quickly as I turned, and we made brief eye contact. I knew he understood what I was trying to say, and while smiling seemed impossible for him at the moment, at least he got the message. The end of class would show whether or not he'd take my suggestion seriously.

"Take a minute to read the comments since I took more than a minute to write them!" I called over the rustling papers as they all automatically turned to the last page to find the grade. They dutifully went back and started reading the comments I'd left in the margins, and I watched Tom out of the corner of my eye. I knew when he was done because he slumped in his seat in his customary slouch. I sighed. I hoped writing about it helped because I had no idea if he would ever want to talk.

When the bell rang at the end of class, the kids were shuffling out, and I was putting papers back in my bag when I realized there was a figure waiting for me. It was Tom, and he was trying to look like he was just packing up really slowly, but he's usually one of the first ones out of the room. I glanced to the door to make sure everyone else had gone, and then I said softly, "when does he leave?"

He swallowed hard. I saw his Adam's apple bob. "Next weekend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded tight, and I knew I was right. I knew he hadn't spoken about this to anyone yet, so I waited for him to say whatever else he wanted. What he said next, though, took my breath away.

"At least he's going to boot camp with one of our neighbors, though."

"Oh, is he? Well, that's good." 

"Yeah," Tom said, managing a small smile. "Sodapop Curtis is a really good guy."


	3. Chapter 3

All of the color must have drained from my face. I stared at Tom for a moment before I could find the words, and then all I could manage was, "Soda?"

My voice came out as a croak, and he looked surprised.

"Yeah, you know him? He and his brothers have lived next door to us my whole life. They're real nice."

I let out a deep breath and realized my hands were shaking. I grabbed my bag quickly so he wouldn't notice and tried to force a smile.

"Yes, I know him. I know all of them, actually. Ponyboy was my student, years ago."

Tom smiled. "Ponyboy and Sodapop… and Darryl. I never understood their parents."

I let out a short laugh. "You have a point."

Suddenly, the bell rang, and we both jumped slightly.

"Oh," Tom said, glancing at the clock, "I didn't realize. Could I have a late pass? I have math."

"Sure, sure. Sorry." I pulled the pad out of my desk and dashed off a pass, handing it to him as we both walked out the door. We turned to go our separate ways down the hallway, but he turned back and called my name. When I turned, he was staring at his feet, but he glanced up at me quickly.

"Thanks, Mrs. Nelson."

I tried to smile at him, but I knew it was just as forced as the first time, so I said, "You're welcome. Come talk to me anytime, ok?"

He nodded and then turned and walked down the hall. I sighed and walked to the office. I didn't know what to make of this news. I also didn't know why this was the first I was hearing of it. Where on earth was Ponyboy? Why hadn't he called?

And then I got to my desk. A phone message sat on it, and I didn't know why I'd worried. I knew who it would be, and I was right. But what could I say to him? I was just as scared of Vietnam as everybody else in their right mind. How could I pretend with the Curtises that everything was going to be ok when I knew that's what they needed me to do? How could I pretend something I didn't even believe?


	4. Chapter 4

I waited until the end of the day to return Pony's call. I tried to think of what I could say, and by the time I knew that it really was time to call him, I'd only come up with one possibility. I went into the phone closet in the English office after the last bell rang, took a deep breath, and dialed his number.

Luckily for me, he answered. I didn't know _what_ I could have said to Soda if he'd been the one to pick up the phone.

"Hello?" his voice was subdued, and my heart ached. He has a tendency to do that to me.

"Hey, Pony," I said softly, pressing the receiver to my ear. "It's Mrs. Nelson. I – I got your message."

"Oh, hey," he said, and the gloom in his voice lifted slightly. "Thanks for calling back. I'm – I'm actually home right now. I came home for the weekend."

"On Thursday?" I asked in confusion. One thing I had decided to do was play dumb. This was Pony's news.

"Yeah, well…" and here he hesitated. I waited silently until he finally released a deep breath and said, "well, it's kind of bad news. Soda… well, he got his draft card. He's leaving on Saturday, and…" he trailed off.

I sighed. "What time does he leave?"

After another moment of silence, Pony cleared his throat.

"Um… 1. He leaves at 1." I knew everything he wasn't saying, though, so I forced myself to say the only thing I'd been able to come up with while putting off this phone call.

"Can I come say goodbye? Or is it just a family only thing?"

I could hear the sigh of relief he was trying to suppress. "Please," he said simply. "We all want you there. Soda even told me to ask you, and Darry agreed."

"Of course," I said. We hung up a few minutes later, and I felt that familiar sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't want Soda to go to Vietnam. I didn't want to say goodbye to him. But most of all, I didn't want to have to watch Pony and Darry say goodbye to their brother. In spite of the problems I know they've all had at home, none of those problems have ever been with Soda. I didn't know how those two would make it without him there to keep the peace. My lips twisted wryly with irony. Leave it to the United States government to send one of the best peace keepers I'd ever known into a senseless war.

Saturday arrived much more quickly than any of us wanted it to. I got to the Curtis house at 12:30. Since the bus was leaving at 1, so I wanted to be there a little early to see them all at home before we all accompanied Soda to the depot. Chris was staying home with James again since I wouldn't be gone that long. (He had offered to come along, but I didn't know what we'd do with James, and knowing these boys as I've come to do, I didn't think they'd need any more of an audience to witness what was sure to be a very hard day for all of them.)

The screen door was closed, but the other door was open when I got there, so I opened the screen tentatively, calling hello as I walked in slowly. Surprisingly, even from the limited times I've been there, the house was silent. After a moment, though, Pony came around from the hallway. Without a word, he came straight to me and put his arms around me. I'd only caught a glimpse of his face, but I hugged him tightly, feeling his arms tighten in response. After a minute, he pulled away, but he swiped quickly at his eyes before he looked at me. It was clear, though, once I took a closer look, that this had been a morning of tears for him. His eyes were swollen, and his nose was an unmistakable shade of red.

I looked at him in sympathy and put my hand briefly to his cheek. He closed his eyes for a second, and when I took my hand away, he cleared his throat.

"Thanks for coming," he said hoarsely. "I'll … I'll try to find my brothers."

"Ok," I said softly. I had a lump in my throat now, and I hoped I would be up for this. I'd expected Pony to be this upset, but I hadn't expected this lack of control to start so early. As I waited, I wandered over to the pictures on the wall by the television. I'd obviously never met their parents. They'd died shortly before Pony entered my class, but I always enjoyed looking at their pictures and seeing how much the boys resembled their mom and dad. I was so engrossed in a picture of the three of them as little kids that I didn't even realize Soda was behind me, looking at it too, until I heard him sniffling.

I didn't turn because I didn't know what he wanted me to do. After a moment, he choked, "I'm going to miss them so much, Mrs. Nelson." His voice was tight, and it broke on my name, and that was when I finally turned around.

"I know you will," I said softly, reaching for him. The minute his arms went around my waist, he fell apart. He buried his face in my hair, and I could feel his shoulders shaking, so I held on tightly until he calmed down. It took all of my willpower to keep the tears from spilling down my own face, but I closed my eyes tightly against them. When his grip finally loosened, we let go and that's when we realized that Pony and Darry were sitting on the couch, waiting for us. They were each wearing sunglasses, and they were staring at their feet. Soda forced a smile as he wiped his eyes.

"Oh, shoot. You two know I'm a bawl baby. I'm ok now. Let's go?"

They nodded silently, and I followed the three of them out the door. Steve was on the front porch waiting, also in sunglasses, which made me cringe. When Steve needs to resort to sunglasses, it's a bad day. The only other times I've ever seen him like that were at Johnny's memorial and Two-Bit's funeral.

The five of us walked slowly down the street. The depot was only a quarter of a mile from the house, so we got there in a few minutes. I wasn't surprised to see Tom there with his family, but his eyes widened when he saw me. I squeezed Pony's arm and then went to introduce myself to Tom's parents. They smiled at me weakly, but I could see how preoccupied they were with John, so I made my introduction short and then went back over to Pony.

None of us knew what to say. Every time someone would start, he would fade off uncomfortably. It was only when we saw the bus coming down the street that our tongues became loose.

"You'll write," Darry said to Soda fiercely.

"Everyday," he said, trying to smile. It didn't work.

"To me too," Steve said, his voice harsh. It was clear to me that they had to try so hard to even make their voices work that they were coming out sounding like this. I could see that Soda knew it too. He looked at Pony, waiting for some sort of instructions from him, but he got nothing. Pony was continuing to stare at his feet, and it wasn't until Soda reached out and put his hand on his shoulder that he got any sort of reaction at all. As the bus pulled up, wheezing to a stop in front of us, Pony broke.

He threw his arms around Soda, and his shoulders heaved with silent sobs. "Please don't go," he whispered. "They could take anyone but you."

Soda patted him gently, but I could see how much this was costing him, and I could see that Darry was in no shape to help, so I finally stepped forward and helped Soda disentangle himself from Pony, who turned straight into Darry's shoulder.

Soda and I looked at each other. "_I'll_ write to _you_," I said, trying to sound cheerful, but he could see right through me.

"I'll miss you too," he said, and his voice wavered. He cleared his throat briskly, and then he grabbed his duffel bag and walked over to the entrance.

"I'll miss all of you," he said. "Pony," he pleaded, and Pony finally looked up from the protection of Darry's arms. "I love you," he said softly. "I promise I'm coming back. Darry, you too," he added, and then he looked at Steve and nodded to include him in the circle. Without another word, he climbed up onto the bus. As the doors closed and the bus made its slow progress down the street, I couldn't tear my eyes away. When it was out of sight, and I turned to the boys, I caught a quick glimpse of Tom. He was hugging his mother, and I could see the tears in his eyes. He looked at me too, and then he buried his face in his mother's shoulder. I shook my head as I followed the Pony, Darry and Steve back to the house. There were no right words.


	5. Chapter 5

When we got back to the house, the boys sat down in what I could only assume were their usual seats in the living room, Darry in an armchair, Steve on the floor, and Pony on the couch. I hovered awkwardly in the doorway until Pony motioned for me to join him. It was clear to me that I was taking Soda's now-empty spot, and the stab of pain that shot through me only intensified as the boys began to remove their sunglasses. Only Darry's eyes weren't red, but I could hardly look at Steve and Pony … which was ok because neither of them were looking at me either.

After a few minutes of silence, Steve reached over and turned on the television. It made sense. It did. But none of us expected to see footage of the war when we finally got a picture. It was terrible. I caught a glimpse of a stretcher before I turned away … but Pony was entranced. He was staring at the screen in a way that gave me chills, and I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. He didn't even respond, so I slowly moved away. I glanced down at Steve on the floor, but he was staring at the floor and wouldn't look up. And then I looked at Darry.

He was staring at me, and I wondered for a fleeting moment why it took so long for me to look in his direction. Then I realized why. I was afraid. I'd felt his eyes on me, and I was afraid to see this side of Darry. I've only seen it once before, and he resisted my help then. It seemed that he was turning to me now.

I held eye contact for a moment and then got up from the couch and walked out onto the back porch. After a moment, Darry joined me. We sat side by side on the top step, and we stared out into the small yard. I waited for him to talk, and it took just as long as I'd thought it would. When he finally spoke, his voice was unlike anything I'd ever heard from him before.

"I don't know how we're going to do this," he said quietly. It wasn't that he was crying. It was just that he sounded… defeated. I had never heard Darry give up, and it was clear to me that that's what he was doing.

"You'll make it through," I said firmly. I kept my voice low, so Pony and Steve wouldn't hear us, but I knew Darry was listening to every word. He had no other adults to turn to, and even though I was only 10 years older, that was somehow enough. "You always have. You take such good care of Ponyboy, Darry. And he needs you now more than ever. And you need him. You'll make it through. You have no choice."

He nodded but continued staring straight ahead.

"I know you're right," he said, "but this … is different. I just feel like… I feel like I let my parents down. I let Soda go into danger, and …" he trailed off. The defeat in his voice had been bad enough, but on the word danger, his voice wobbled. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Everything depended on what I would say next.

"Darry, you did NOT let your parents down. There was nothing you or they could have done to stop this. Unfortunately, Soda is of age at a time of war, and once they instituted the draft, it was only a matter of time. And just because he's going into this situation doesn't mean he's not going to also come out of it just fine. You just have to write to him every week and hold onto the hope that he'll be home again soon. And Darry? I'm sure that your parents really would be very proud of you…"

I had to say it. I saw the moment he dropped his head, but I couldn't take it back, and I didn't want to. He needed to hear that occasionally.

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes. I knew he was having a hard time keeping his composure, so I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed hard. I could feel him trembling slightly, but I stayed quiet until he finally took a deep breath, rubbed his face briskly with his hands and glanced at me.

"Thanks," he said brusquely but with a genuine smile. It only lasted for a moment, though, and then he turned serious again. "I guess I should go back in and see if the two of them want to maybe go to a movie tonight or something… get our minds off this." 

"That's a good idea," I said, nodding. "And don't forget… if you guys ever need anything, I'm just a phone call away."

"We know," Darry said. "And I don't think I could ever tell you how much we appreciate it."

I smiled and pushed myself up off the step. As I brushed off the back of my jeans, Darry stood too. I was about to walk in when he stopped me and held out his arms. I hugged him tightly, and he held on a moment longer than he normally would, but when I pulled back, he just nodded.

"Yeah, I'm ok. Let's go in."

We entered the living room to the same scene we'd left. I walked over to say goodbye to Pony, and he hugged me briefly but still couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the gruesome images on the television. Steve stood up from his place on the floor, and when he hugged me harder than he ever had before, I squeezed him back and muttered, "call me whenever." He nodded as he let go, and I could see that he seemed slightly calmer.

Then I left. The moment I sat in my car, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. It had been just as hard as I'd expected it to be. And it was only the beginning.


	6. Chapter 6

When he got to my 11th grade class on Monday, Tom was just as uncomfortable as I'd expected him to be. Since I hadn't explained the extent of my connection to the Curtis family, I knew he hadn't expected to see me there on Saturday, and now it was clear that he was embarrassed that I'd been there to see that.

He didn't glance in my direction when he walked into the room whereas he normally says hello, and he slouched in his seat in much the same way he did after reading my comments on his essay. I knew I would have to speak to him after class so I could clear the air and hopefully ease any fears I assumed he might be having. I was pretty sure I knew what they were too.

The class flew by as it normally does, and when the bell rang, the kids started packing up and flowing out of the room. Tom was right in the middle of the mix, and when I called his name, I saw him stiffen, but he turned obediently and forced his way through the crowd to my desk. We waited in silence until everyone had gone, and then I said quietly, "how are you doing?"

"Fine," he muttered, staring at the floor. I continued to look at him, not responding until he finally looked up. As soon as our eyes connected, he flushed and looked back down.

"Listen," I said softly, "I don't want to make you late for math again, but we obviously need to talk. Will you come back on your lunch period? I think we might be off at the same time?"

" 6th?" he asked gruffly. I sighed.

"No, I guess not. Can you stop by at the end of the day, or do you catch a bus?"

"I can come," he said sullenly. "I walk home."

"Great," I said, careful to keep my tone measured. "I'll see you here after school."

He nodded, and when I didn't say anything else, he bolted. Looking after him, I shook my head. I would have thought that opening up in his writing would have meant he wouldn't have minded me being there on Saturday, but I sometimes forget that for them, writing is very different from actually being there. With their writing, they feel like they can keep us at arm's length. Tom couldn't do that anymore, and I knew I had to deal with it before it became a problem in class.

When the last bell rang at the end of the day, I sat at the desk in my classroom and started grading papers. I hoped Tom wouldn't forget either accidentally or otherwise, but I didn't have to worry because he walked in only five minutes later. Without looking at me, he took a seat in front of the room and stared at the initials carved into the wooden top of the desk. I looked at him for a moment before I got up and came around to sit on my own desk. I knew better this time than to wait for him to look up, so I just started talking. I've learned that the best way to deal with these kinds of problems is to come right out and say it, so I did.

"Tom, something's obviously bothering you today. Why don't you tell me what it is, so we can resolve it?"

He didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, and then he spoke so quietly that I almost missed it.

"That was humiliating."

I stayed quiet for a minute, but he didn't say anything else, so I asked gently, "Why?"

I didn't bother pretending I didn't know what he was talking about. That would have shut him down right then and there.

"None of my friends have ever seen me like that," he mumbled. "No one has… well, no one now except _you_."

"Tom," I said slowly, "it's really ok. First of all… _anyone_ would react that way in that type of situation. Didn't you see Pony and Darry and Steve?"

He looked up suddenly, and I realized that he had been so wrapped up in his own misery that day that he'd managed to block out all of his surroundings.

"Them too?" he asked. I nodded, suddenly finding myself swallowing a lump in my throat as I remembered Soda climbing on the bus.

"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Well… ok. It's just…" and as he trailed off again, I knew what he somehow needed me to say.

"Tom, I would never tell anybody about that day. I … I don't even like to remember it much myself."

I could see him sag imperceptibly with relief, and this time he actually smiled. It was weak, but it was a smile.

"Thanks, Mrs. Nelson."

I nodded. "Of course. I just hope… well, I hope you know that you can trust me. If you ever need to talk about any of this, you know where to find me."

"Yeah, I do. And I might. I gotta go now, but I'll see you tomorrow."

This time, the smile he gave me was genuine, and I smiled back.

"See you tomorrow, Tom."

I watched him walk out of the room, and suddenly, I didn't see Tom anymore. I saw a 15-year-old Ponyboy Curtis in front of me, tears in his eyes, talking about Johnny Cade, and I got up and walked to the office. I had a phone call to make.


	7. Chapter 7

As I dialed his number at school, I waited to see who would answer the phone. I hoped it wouldn't be his roommate because I never know how to explain who I am when he does. I've only called Pony at college a few times, but each time is just as awkward when he isn't the one answering the phone. Pony answered on the third ring, and I let out a sigh of relief. He, however, didn't sound quite as happy as I felt.

"Hey Mrs. Nelson," he said, and his voice was more subdued than it had been when I'd left his house on Saturday. Then again, he'd also been entranced by the gruesome images on the television at the time.

"Hey Pony. I was just thinking about you, and I wondered how you were doing. When did you go back to school?"

"Last night," he sighed. "I really didn't want to leave Darry alone, but he made me go. He said he'd be fine. Do you think you might check on him once in a while? I know he'll say he's ok, but…" he trailed off, and when I glanced at myself in the mirror we inexplicably on the door of our phone closet, I could see that my expression was just as pained as I knew it would be.

"Of course," I said softly. "But how are _you_?"

There was a moment of silence that stretched into a couple of minutes before he finally answered. The only reason I knew he was still there was because I could hear his breathing, but when it became labored, I knew better than to say another word.

"I miss him," he practically whispered. "I know I wasn't seeing him everyday before he left, but just knowing he isn't there when I call Darry… I don't know. I can't really concentrate in my classes. All I keep doing is taking the newspapers when people leave them in the lounge and trying to find every article I can about the war. But they're not … they don't make me feel any better. The more I read, the more worried I get. I just…"

And he trailed off. I'd heard the tears in his voice, though, so I spoke to them.

"I know you're worried, Pony. I'm not going to pretend I'm not. But people do come home from this war. We just have to pray as hard as we can and hope for the best. And I don't know about you, but reading those articles doesn't make me feel any better. I'm not saying not to read the paper. It's always good to be informed. But don't let the facts and figures take over your life. Soda wouldn't want you to do that either."

There were another few minutes of silence, and I knew he was struggling to stay in control, so I waited patiently until he managed to say, "Thanks. You're right. I think – I think I'm going to write him a letter now."

"That's a good idea," I said gently. "Maybe I'll do that too. I'll talk to you soon, ok? Call me whenever you want."

"Thanks," he said shakily. "I'll do that."

I hung up slowly and stared at the phone for a minute. It's so hard when there's no way to make things better. But I knew one thing I could do for him. I could go see Darry.


	8. Chapter 8

I didn't know how to go about visiting Darry, so I put it off for another two weeks. I didn't want to break my promise to Pony, but I knew Darry would be throwing himself into his work, and I guess I used that as my excuse not to stop by. And then something happened that forced me over to the Curtis house one blustery Tuesday afternoon. I got a letter from Soda.

When I got home from school on Monday afternoon, I stopped to get the mail same way I always did and had just gotten inside and was putting down my things when I recognized the handwriting in one of the return addresses. My hands shook as I pulled the envelope out of the middle of the stack.

I walked blindly into the living room, and my mother looked up at me in surprise from the floor where she was playing blocks with James.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

I held up the letter and said faintly, "it's from Soda," and her face relaxed into an expression of understanding.

"Go read it. We'll be right here."

I just nodded and wandered into the bedroom. I was too dazed to even respond. I never expected to hear from him so soon. And I never expected his letter to be like this…

_Dear Mrs. Nelson,_

_Surprise! I don't have much time to write, but I do have a few minutes and since I just wrote to Steve, Pony, and Darry, I figured I'd give you my last couple of minutes. Thanks for coming to the bus that day. I don't know if you know how much I needed that. Well… how much we all did. I have to go in a minute, but I wanted to just tell you everything here is ok. There's a rumor we're going to be in Vietnam sooner than any of us thought…maybe in another month? I'll let some of you know when I do. In the meantime, please take care of my brothers. (But don't tell them I asked.) If you could just stop by and check on Darry… I think he might be having an even harder time than Pony. You know him, though. He would never admit it. But he's alone in that house now, so if you could maybe try to stop by and visit, that'd help him a lot, I think. I know Steve goes by a lot, but it's different, somehow. Anyway, I need to get going. Thanks again._

_-Sodapop Curtis_

I put the letter down on the bed beside me and realized my hands were still shaking, so I took a few slow deep breaths to steady myself. I had a feeling I was going to have this reaction every time there was some correspondence from Soda, so I knew I would need to learn how to handle it better than this. Once my breathing returned to normal and I'd stopped shaking, I went out to the living room. As I joined my mother and son, I knew I'd have to ask her to stay late the next day. There was no way I could put off visiting Darry any longer…

When I pulled up in front of the Curtis house the next afternoon, I was happy to see their car in the driveway. I'd wondered what shifts Darry was working, but now that he only had himself to support with Soda in the army and Pony on full scholarship, he didn't need to work the insane hours anymore. It was good and bad, though. Now he had more time to think.

Once I turned off my car, I sat there for a moment, gathering my courage to actually do this. I don't know why I'm so much more hesitant when it comes to Darry… probably because he isn't that much younger than I am, and I'm never sure how willing he'll be to accept my sympathy. He's much more self-reliant than his brothers.

I shook my head and got out of the car and walked up the porch steps. The inner door to the house was open, so I called through the screen, "Hello? Anybody home?"

Darry came out from the kitchen, looking puzzled but definitely happy to see me.

"Hey! Come on in!"

I pulled open the door and grinned at him.

"Figured I'd stop by and see you. It's been a while," I said as I reached out to hug him tightly. When we let go, he grinned at me.

"It has. Come on in. I just have to put a couple of things away, so take a seat. I'll be right back."

I nodded and sat down on the comfortably lumpy couch. There was a photo album open on the coffee table in front of me, so I picked it up to pass the time while I waited.

Why would I not have expected the pictures that I saw when I looked down? But I froze and my eyes blurred as I found myself staring at pictures of Pony, Soda and Darry at the ages of 6, 8 and 12. Their innocent grins tugged at my heart, but I had to close the album when I came to pictures of the three of them with their parents. As I slapped the book shut, I realized that Darry was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen, watching me.

He came over and sat beside me, and neither of us spoke. Finally, I cleared my throat.

"How often have you looked at them?" I managed to ask.

"Everyday," he said, his voice hoarser than it had been just moments earlier. We didn't look at each other. After another moment, Darry picked up the album and flipped it open. Hesitantly, he placed it on both of our laps and pointed to the picture he'd opened to.

"This was the three of us out in the country. Our parents used to take us there in the summers."

As we began looking through the album together with Darry narrating various pictures, his voice grew stronger. As hard as it was to look at these happy times with only the two of us sitting in what used to be a much more crowded house, it almost began to feel like these missing people weren't all that far away. I began to understand how Darry was surviving. He was living in his memories just as much as in the present because it was the only choice he could make.

I'd been there for an hour when I realized I should be getting home. I leaned against the back of the couch and looked at Darry as he continued to pore over these pictures he must have seen millions of times. He quickly realized I was watching him and turned to look at me.

"I need to get going, but I'll come back next week, ok?" I said quietly.

He nodded, and I could see the relief in his eyes that he tried to hide.

"Thanks," he said quickly.

I stood and he followed suit. After a moment of awkward silence, he reached for me, and I wrapped my arms tightly around him.

"They'll be back with you soon," I murmured, hoping I wasn't lying when I said 'they.' I knew Darry understood because I felt him nod, but his arms tightened around me, so I just held on, waiting for him to be ready to let go.

When he finally did pull away, his eyes were shining with the tears he refused to shed in front of me, so I simply smiled at him and walked out. I didn't want to see them either. That had been hard enough, but at least I felt like I kept my promise to Pony and Soda.


	9. Chapter 9

One month later

Soda was still in boot camp when Tom's brother John got sent over to Vietnam. I knew something was wrong as soon as he walked into class because he looked haggard, and he put his head down the minute he sat at his desk. I didn't say anything to him, though. This time I knew to wait until he was ready. He showed up at the end of the day.

I was sitting in my classroom, attempting to grade papers, when I realized that someone was in the doorway. When I glanced up, I tried not to show my surprise. I knew Tom needed this to seem completely normal, so I just smiled at him and motioned for him to come in. I wasn't paying too much attention to the look on his face, but I was immediately aware of where he chose to sit. He went in the far corner of the room away from the door, and I sighed inwardly. The inconspicuous seat is always a sign. This wasn't going to be easy.

I finished the paper I was grading, and then I turned my attention to Tom. He was just staring at the desk, so I knew I would need to speak first. I attempted to keep it casual until he showed any sign of wanting to talk about anything real.

"So what's going on," I asked, leaning back in my chair. He didn't look up, just mumbled something that I missed… but when I asked him to repeat it, I got the shock of my week.

"He's in Vietnam," he choked out, and then he folded his arms on his desk and dropped his head on them. I just sat there, staring at him. I didn't get up, and I didn't speak. The only thought that kept running through my head was… what this meant for Soda. It took me a moment to realize that Tom's shoulders had started to shake.

I sighed and pushed my chair back slowly, getting up from my desk and walking over to the chair next to Tom. He still had his head down when I sat beside him, and I tentatively put my hand on his shoulder. His sobs grew audible then, and I held on tightly, waiting for him to calm down. It took longer than I expected and longer, I'm sure, than he expected too. When his sobs subsided to sniffles, he finally looked up.

"I'm so scared," he mumbled, and as he looked at me through very red eyes, I felt a lump in my own throat.

"I know," I said gently. "So am I. So is everyone. It's ok to be scared."

He nodded, dragging his sleeve across his eyes. I almost smiled. As much as these teenagers want to seem like adults, every now and then they revert right back to the behavior that reminds me forcefully that they're very much still kids.

"My parents are going nuts," he said, his voice starting to sound more like himself. "My mom can't stop crying, and my dad won't leave the house on weekends. It's like… they can't imagine he's going to…" His voice choked off again, and he shook his head.

"Listen to me," I said firmly. "Nobody knows what's going to happen. I know that's one of the scariest parts of his whole thing, but it's also one of the hopeful parts. He might come home _just fine_, ok?"

He nodded and let out an explosive breath. "That's true, I guess. Thanks."

Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, and then I said, "I'm glad you stopped by today."

"I just couldn't do it anymore," he said quietly, staring once again at the desk. "I couldn't pretend everything was ok. Thanks for being here."

He put his hands flat on the desk and pushed himself slowly out of the seat.

"Don't be surprised if I come back," he muttered, and he walked out of the room.

I stared after him, feeling like I'd just had the wind knocked out of me. I'd hoped he might sometime come to talk. _This_… I had not expected.


	10. Chapter 10

Two months later

When we received the news that Soda was, as he called it, "in country," none of us knew quite how to react. Pony called me when he got the letter, and I stopped by Darry's that afternoon. That was the most upset and worried I had ever seen him, and I ended up staying for dinner that night because he was too upset to be alone. Chris understood and even took to writing his own letters to Soda so he would get more mail. Things reached an uneasy peace. Then I made one of the best and worst decisions of my life.

I stopped by for a normal visit to the Curtis home on October 21st. I never expected that to be the day that would change all of our lives. I never expected any of it.

Darry and I were sitting in the kitchen drinking black coffee and talking about Pony's progress at school when the doorbell rang. It was only 4:30 in the afternoon, and we looked at each other in confusion. He shrugged and got to his feet, the chair scraping against the floor.

"Stay here," he said, as I, too, started to stand. "It can't be anything. I'll be right back."

I had half-risen from my chair, but I lowered myself back down again, slightly uneasy. In all the times I'd now been here, no one had ever rung the doorbell. This isn't exactly the kind of neighborhood where kids sell candy door-to-door. I took a sip of my coffee and realized that I hadn't heard a sound from the living room. That was stranger than anything else, so I got hesitantly to my feet and walked into the doorway. What I saw froze me in my tracks.

Two soldiers were walking down the front steps. They'd obviously just said something to Darry because he had his head in the crook of his arm, and he was leaning into the doorframe. I just stood there, the words stuck in my throat. If I spoke, he might turn to me, and if he turned to me, I would see his eyes, and if I could see his eyes… then I might know something I never wanted to know.

But he heard my breathing, and slowly, he took his arm down. Before he turned to me, though, he closed the door. That's when I started to shake.

By the time he finally looked at me, there was no need for words. I knew what he had to tell me as plainly as if I'd been in the room to hear it from the soldiers.

"He's not just M.I.A., is he," I whispered, but it wasn't a question.

He shook his head, and his eyes filled with tears. His lower lip started to tremble, and he bit it, but the tears overflowed anyway, and I opened my arms. He stumbled forward with a sob, and as he wrapped his arms tightly around me, I held on as hard as I could.

When his tears finally spent themselves, we sat on the couch, and he rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Thanks for being here," he mumbled, and I squeezed his shoulder.

"Of course," I tried to say firmly, but the words caught in my throat. I felt like I was choking, but I tried to take deep breaths. Darry didn't need this from me right now. He needed me to be strong. He needed me to be there for him. I couldn't give into this now … but I didn't have much of a choice.

He heard it in my voice, and he turned and put his arms around me. I buried my face in his shoulder, and he hugged me tightly as the tears poured out. It took me a few minutes of deep breathing to get myself back under control, and when I did, I pulled back to look at Darry, and I knew what he was thinking the moment I looked into his eyes:

How on earth was he ever going to tell Pony…


	11. Chapter 11

"You need to help me."

He wasn't looking at me. I wasn't looking at him. We were sitting at the dining room table, and Chris reached over and took my hand. It was now three hours after the soldiers had delivered the terrible news, and in the meantime, I had called Chris and my mother and explained the situation. My mom had taken James home with her for the night, and Chris had joined me at the Curtises. Darry needed help formulating a game plan, and I… well, I just needed Chris.

I let out a deep breath and looked at Darry. "Are you going to ask him to come home, or are you going to go there?"

He sighed. "It would be easier for him to be home when he got the news, but I don't want him to associate this place with death… and he's had more than enough reason to do that already."

"That's true," Chris muttered, and Darry turned to him. I've noticed that Darry takes everything Chris says to heart. I think it's his own need to have an older brother rather than just to be one to everyone else.

"So what do you think I should do," he asked him in a low voice, but I could hear the desire to have someone else make these decisions, to have someone else be in charge, and I knew Chris could hear it too. His grip on my hand tightened. He's fine when it comes to making decisions about James… it's when anyone else looks to him for guidance that he gets a little freaked out, which is why I am the teacher... but he gave it his best shot. He's never understood that's all Darry needs.

"I'd go to his dorm," he said softly, and when Darry said nothing, he continued. "Be ready to bring him home, but I'd still want to tell him there. It's not like you'd be telling him over the phone, and that way, he'll want to go home… not run away from it."

"That makes a lot of sense," I said to Darry, marveling once again at Chris's understanding. I squeezed his hand again without looking at him, but I knew he understood that I was conveying my thanks, and when Darry nodded his own agreement, the three of us sat back in our chairs.

"When did you want to do this?" I asked, dreading the answer, yet I was unsurprised when Darry muttered, "now." It had to be now. I didn't know why I even asked.

"Ok," I said, putting my hands flat on the table and pushing myself to my feet. "Let's go."

We all went. Chris came too; he said he'd drive and that he would wait in the car while we went in. It certainly made sense. Neither Darry nor I were in any condition to concentrate on the road, and Pony certainly wouldn't be. I just couldn't imagine what the look on Pony's face might be when he saw me with his brother. There was no way he couldn't know why we would both be there. But I didn't blame Darry for not wanting to do this alone. It was going to be impossible either way.

When we got to the dorm, I kissed Chris goodbye, and then Darry and I signed in at the front door. At first, they were hesitant about letting me up to the boys' rooms, but when I showed the guard my driver's license and he saw my age and the looks on our faces, he didn't say another word.

We climbed the stairs in silence, and when we reached the third floor, Darry reached out and stopped me before I could open the door.

"I just… I need a second," he whispered. I fell back obediently, staring at the floor. I couldn't bring myself to look in his eyes. After about two minutes, he cleared his throat and put on the sunglasses he'd clipped to the collar of his t-shirt. My heart sank, but I followed him silently.

We stood at Pony's door, and I waited to the side while Darry knocked. Luckily, Pony answered the door… and he was alone. His roommate was nowhere in sight.

"Dar!" he exclaimed when he saw his brother. "Come on in!" and then I pulled myself off the wall, and he froze.

"Mrs. Nelson?" he whispered. For the first time, he seemed to notice the sunglasses Darry was wearing, and reality began to hit him like a ton of bricks.

"No," he said. He turned his back on both of us and walked back into the room, leaving us to follow or, as I'm sure he hoped, turn around and go home. We followed.

I closed the door behind us, taking my time. Darry walked over to where Pony was standing at his desk, staring at papers I was pretty sure he could no longer see. Darry put his arm around Pony's narrow frame, more to hold him up than for any other reason, I knew, and he said, "Bad news, Pony."

His voice caught, and he shouldn't have needed to say any more. If Pony hadn't been so adamant in his refusal to admit why we were there, he wouldn't have had to, but Pony wouldn't even acknowledge his existence, so he was forced to continue.

As Darry described the soldiers and the telegram, he choked up, and I caught a glimpse of the tears slipping past his sunglasses from my spot on the end of Pony's bed. Pony, however, stood frozen. Darry might as well as not have said anything at all. He looked at me helplessly, and I motioned for him to take a break. This wasn't working. He walked over to the window and stared outside. I measured up Pony from my seat on his bed, and then I said quietly, "come sit with me, Pone."

He was forced to obey. It was years of being my student ingrained in him, and he couldn't ignore me as much as he wanted to. I hated to take advantage of this now, but I had no other choice. He sat beside me, his posture stiff, and I looked straight ahead as I spoke.

"I know you heard every word Darry said. I know you didn't want to. I know this is your worst nightmare come true." I heard him start sniffling, but I continued. "And Pony… I know you loved Soda better than anybody. But you love Darry too. And you two need each other now." By the time I finished, his posture was gone, and he hunched over, his face in his hands. I knew Darry could hear him, but I also knew he, himself, was in no shape to help him at this point, so I did what I've always done for Pony. I put my arm around him and rubbed his back until his breathing started to steady.

When he stopped crying, he sat up again slowly. He didn't look at me. He did exactly what I'd hoped he would. He stood and went to Darry, and as I watched them hug, rocking back and forth, my own eyes filled with tears again. We were all in for a long, hard time, and it had only just begun.


	12. Chapter 12

Once Pony started crying, he couldn't seem to stop. He'd broken away from his hug with Darry only to turn and throw his arms around me. I hadn't expected it, and he rocked me backwards, sobbing into my shoulder and soaking my hair. I'd never heard or seen him cry this hard, and we'd been through some rough times together in the last few years. Then again… Soda had also been there to help him through those. I tightened my grip on Pony as I realized that I had no idea how he was ever going to do this.

When he finally calmed down enough to let go, he drew his arm across his eyes, sniffling and sighing. He looked at Darry and asked plaintively, "Can we go home?"

Darry nodded silently. He was afraid to speak. I could see it, and it made me ache. I wished I could do something to take away the pain, but I couldn't forget that I was feeling it too. I pushed it out of my mind for the time being, though. Of the three of us, I was the best functioning, so I grabbed Pony's bag so he could throw a few things in it to take home for the time being. I handed it to him silently and then watched in anguish as he stumbled around the room blindly, throwing random things into it and then just stopping in the middle of the room and letting the bag dangle limply from his hand.

"Let's go," he said hoarsely. I nodded and grabbed Darry's arm. He had been staring out the window while Pony packed, and every now and then, a tear would slip past his sunglasses, and he would brush it away quickly, but I noticed each time, and I knew he knew it. He followed me silently, and I walked between the two of them, each of them hiding behind the dark lenses. When we left the dorm, Chris was still sitting in the car. He'd managed to park right in front, and he had his head back against the seat, his eyes closed. I tapped lightly on the window, and he jerked awake. He took one look at us and reached over quickly to unlock the doors.

Darry and Pony slid silently into the back, and I got into the front next to Chris. None of us spoke for the first five minutes of the drive back, and then Chris said in a low voice, "I'm really sorry, Pony."

He didn't answer at first. I didn't expect him to answer at all, and neither did Chris, I realized, but then we heard the choked voice from the back seat.

"Thanks," he managed, and then, as I looked into the rearview mirror, I saw him take off the sunglasses and drop them onto the seat next to him as he hunched over and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders started shaking, and Darry suddenly seemed to wake up out of his own self-imposed stupor. He reached over and rubbed Pony's back in small circles until the sobs slowed down, and Pony was in some kind of control again. By that time, we were almost back at their house, and Pony put together the first sentence I'd heard him speak since we'd been in the car. It was a sentence, though, that sent a chill down my spine because it hadn't yet occurred to me, and I knew the answer.

"Does Steve know yet?"

Darry shook his head slowly as we made eye contact in the mirror. This was only going to get worse.


	13. Chapter 13

It was a night that was never going to end. Once we got back to their house, Pony stumbled out of the car and straight inside without looking back. It was obvious he needed to be alone, and I understood that with my whole being. I'd felt the same way when I lost my father, and I didn't know how to convey to Pony that I empathized more than he could imagine.

We stood in the front yard, watching the door bang shut behind him, and Darry sighed, reaching under his sunglasses to rub his eyes. It didn't escape my notice, though, that he didn't take them off. It didn't escape Chris's either, and he put his arm around me when he saw me shudder.

"Do you want to go home," he whispered in my ear when Darry turned away from us, and I looked up at him. My eyes filled with tears suddenly, and I buried my face in the front of his shirt. I didn't even answer him because I didn't know. I didn't know where I wanted to be or what Darry and Pony wanted. Well, I knew one thing we all wanted, but it was out of all of our control. I wanted to turn back time.

I pulled away from Chris, sniffling and swiping at my eyes. Darry looked at me then and motioned for us to follow him inside. Letting out a deep breath, I grabbed Chris's hand as we walked slowly up the creaking steps.

Pony wasn't in the living room, but we could all hear the sobs coming from his bedroom, so we stayed on the couches, waiting for him to be ready to come out again. I didn't have any idea if that would ever happen, but I relaxed somewhat, glad that he was home where he could do what he needed to do. He'd need to be doing that for a long time. We had other concerns now too, though. As Pony had so rightly pointed out in the car, Steve still didn't know… not to mention the fact that there were still arrangements to be made.

I sighed and leaned my head back against the couch cushion, closing my eyes. Keeping them closed, I asked, "Darry, do you think Steve might still come over tonight?"

He sighed. "Probably. It's only 8, and he usually stops by. I can't imagine why he wouldn't."

I didn't open my eyes, just slumped down further in my seat and tried to take calming breaths. Chris's hand was on my leg, and I was starting to relax when I heard Pony's footsteps in the hallway. I opened my eyes as he walked into the room, his eyes red and swollen.

"Are you talking about Steve?" he asked, his voice subdued. We nodded, and he sat down on the floor next to my legs, leaning against them. I patted the top of his head, and he leaned it against my knee.

"Are you hungry, Pony?" Darry asked from his chair, but Pony shook his head. I glanced down at him sympathetically. I didn't know when he'd have an appetite again, but I was betting it wouldn't be any time soon.

We were sitting in silence when we all heard the footsteps outside. I froze, and I could feel Pony tense up from where he was still slumped against me. Chris started fidgeting, and Darry just sighed. Nothing was going to make this anything but impossible.

It turned out… we didn't even need words. Steve walked in the way he must have done every night… and then stopped in a way he must have never done before. He took one look at all of our faces, and I watched all of the color drain from his. Darry stood up, but Steve backed away before he could even open his mouth.

"No," he whispered, but Darry continued walking toward him, slowly, hesitantly, as if he were afraid Steve might bolt if he made any sudden moves. He slowly continued his approach … until Steve suddenly dropped to his knees right where he was standing. He wrapped his arms around himself and ducked his head, and I could hear Pony murmur, "that's what he did when Dally died…" and I felt a chill course through me. Because when Dally died… Soda had been there to help. This time, it was Darry. He dropped down beside Steve and pulled him in, and as soon as Darry's arms went around him, we all heard Steve break in a way none of us, including me, had ever heard it before. Listening to his sobs brought tears to my eyes, and I closed them again. I wasn't ready for this yet. I never would be.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Longer chapters coming up soon. Thanks for all of the reviews. I very much appreciate them.

Chris and I ended up leaving the Curtis house at 11 that night but with assurances that I would return directly after school the next afternoon. It was all too much, but it was too much for all of us, and I knew the only way through this would be together. I was lucky, though, that Chris knew this too _and_ that my mother didn't mind the extra time watching James. I didn't know why Chris was always so understanding when it came to this family, but as I thought about the way he and Darry had interacted, I realized that he felt the responsibility too, and I knew I was lucky.

What I didn't expect was to have Tom not know what had happened when he walked into my class the next morning. I knew I looked washed out, and I could tell my students were watching me curiously. I hadn't realized, though, that it would be during that class when our principal would decide to make the announcement about one of our "alumni" being killed in the line of duty. At this point, the fact that Soda had never really graduated seemed pretty irrelevant, so I didn't question his use of that term. I did, however, have to close my eyes when he said Soda's name, and when I opened them, my class was looking at me with a lot more understanding … well, except for Tom who was sitting with an expression that looked a lot closer to grief and fear. His eyes met mine, and before I could even change my expression, he bolted from the room. I sighed as I turned the class to doing the assignment for the day. This just kept getting progressively harder.

Tom came back ten minutes later, and I was about to say something when I noticed the telltale red tinge around his eyes, and I just settled on a meaningful look that I knew he would understand. He did. When the bell finally rang, releasing them, he took his time packing up, and I did the same. When the room finally cleared, he approached my desk.

"Mrs. Nelson, I'm… well, I'm really, really sorry." He didn't look at me, but I could hear the truth of his words in his voice. "I don't even know what to say, but I just… I wish it hadn't happened. Soda was a really great guy." His voice had been shaking slightly, and it broke when he said Soda's name. He still hadn't looked up, though, so I said, softly,

"Thank you. I hope you decide to stop by to see Ponyboy and Darry. They'll be glad to see you, I'm sure."

Now he looked up. I'd known he would. His eyes were bright, and he managed to choke out, "I don't think I can. I don't want to know what this is like."

He quickly looked back down but not before I saw the tear fall, and I waited for him to regain his composure until I said firmly,

"Whatever you need to do is fine, obviously. I just think you'll feel better if you see them. But it's up to you. I just want you to know I'll be there today after school, and I'm pretty sure the wake will be next week at the earliest."

He nodded. "Ok," he said quietly, but I knew he was still considering what I'd said. Without another word, I tore off a piece of paper from the pad on my desk and jotted down yet another late pass.

"Get to math," I said quietly. "I'll see you later."

He nodded again and walked quickly out of the room without another word. I wondered if he could do this. I wondered if any of us could.


	15. Chapter 15

When I got to the house that afternoon, Darry was on the phone in the kitchen, making the arrangements for the wake and the funeral. He had to deal with the military so this was taking a lot more work than it normally would. Pony was in his room, avoiding the situation, so I took a seat on the couch and waited for Darry to be finished. What I didn't know was where Steve was. I couldn't imagine he'd be at work given the condition he'd been in the last time I'd seen him only 24 hours earlier, but he was nowhere in sight, so I didn't know what to think.

I'd been sitting there for ten minutes when Pony emerged from his room. His eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and relief when he saw me, and I realized he didn't know how much time I'd been spending visiting with Darry while he was away at school. I was a lot more comfortable in the house than I had been the last time he was home, so he was understandably confused. But I saw the relief in his eyes too, and I smiled at it. It was weak, of course, but it was a smile, and he came and sat next to me.

We said nothing for a minute until I finally asked softly, "So? How are you doing today?"

Pony sighed. I turned so I could see him, and he looked down at his lap.

"Is it weird that I don't really believe it?" he asked. His voice was low, but I heard every word, and they made me ache.

I shook my head, and even though he was looking down, I knew he saw me. He glanced up at me, and I could see the grief in his eyes, and I knew that as much as he might not have _wanted_ to believe it, at some level, he did. I reached over and patted him on the shoulder. We didn't say anything for a few more minutes and then he said, so quietly I almost missed it, "I feel really guilty about Darry."

I looked at him sharply. "Why?"

He still didn't look at me when he answered. "I haven't been helping him with any of this. He's been doing it all by himself, and even though he keeps telling me he'll take care of it all, I know he's just as upset as I am. I should be helping him, Mrs. Nelson, but… I just can't."

I sighed. "Darry understands, Pony. Everyone knows how hard this is for both of you, but Darry can handle this part. You know he would tell you if he couldn't. Or he'd tell me. But he hasn't. So stop feeling guilty. It won't help anything."

He nodded slightly, but I wasn't so sure how much he believed me. I didn't know what else to say, though, so we lapsed into silence until Darry finally got off the phone and joined us. He looked happy to see Pony sitting with me, and I took that to mean that Pony wasn't exaggerating when he said he couldn't handle this stuff. He must have been in his room all day long. I couldn't blame him, though, and I knew Darry didn't either.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, I finally screwed up the courage to broach the topic that we were all obviously thinking about. I didn't want to bring them down, but there were things I just needed to know.

"So?" I asked, looking straight at Darry. "Do you know anything about next week yet?"

He deflated a little as I forced him to think about everything he would rather pretend was a nightmare. I saw it, and so did Pony, and he gave a small shudder.

"The wake will be next Wednesday and Thursday, and the funeral will be on Friday," Darry said quietly. His voice was measured, but I could hear the pain in it, and I suddenly found it hard to look at him anymore, so I stared into my lap, nodding my head.

"Ok," I said even though there was nothing ok about any of it. "I'll be there. So will Chris. We'll both be there for everything."

Now it was Darry's turn to nod, and while he didn't say anything more, and neither did Pony, I could sense their relief. None of spoke again for a little while, and now that Darry was off the phone, I decided to give them some time alone. I gathered my things, and when I stood up, neither of them objected, but they both stood as well to say goodbye.

I hugged Darry first, and he squeezed me tightly but let go pretty quickly. He wasn't ready for any more emotion now; that much was clear. He'd had enough of it for the past few days, and he knew he'd have more soon, and I could see that he'd made a deal with himself. He'd wait to let it out if he could manage it. And then I hugged Pony. As much as he might have liked to have made the same deal with himself, he couldn't. He put his arms around me, and he clung to me tightly for longer than I expected, his breath shaky in my ear. I rubbed his back until he was ready to let go, and when we did, his eyes were bright, and he turned abruptly and went back to the bedroom. Darry cast me an anguished look and then turned toward the hallway. I was glad to see he was going after Pony. They needed to be together right now.

I walked outside, expecting a simple drive home, but I jumped almost a foot in the air when I heard someone say my name softly from the corner of the porch. When I had finally calmed down enough to look, I wasn't surprised to see Steve. What did surprise me was that he was sitting there alone instead of going inside. A closer look at him, though, made this less confusing.

I took the seat next to him on the bench he was occupying, and he nodded slowly, not looking at me. I waited for him to speak, and his voice also clarified his solitary place on this porch.

"I don't know how to do this, Mrs. Nelson," he said, and his voice was tight. He shadowed his eyes with his hand, his elbow resting on the arm of the bench, and I kept looking straight ahead. "I… I just wanted him to come back to the DX and for everything to be the way it was. But now…" he trailed off, and I knew he couldn't have said another word if he'd tried. His voice just wasn't working anymore, and I hesitantly put my arm across the back of the bench so I was touching him but not intruding too much on his space. It turned out that I didn't need to worry. The moment he felt my arm against his back, he lost whatever battle he still had against the tears, and he turned into my shoulder. He didn't make a sound, but his tears soaked into my shirt, and I held onto him tightly, letting him release all of the pain I now understood he was afraid to put on Darry and Pony. My heart broke to realize how lonely Steve would be now. Darry and Pony had each other, and they always would, and while I knew they loved Steve as if he were another brother… he wasn't. And just like he could never really understand how hard this was for them, they would never understand just how much Soda's death had left Steve by himself.

As I sat with Steve for another hour, talking quietly while he shaded his eyes and pretended that he was going to be ok, I made another promise to myself. Soda had wanted me to visit Darry, but I also knew that he'd want me to take care of Steve now. Someone had to, and I couldn't turn away from him when he was in this kind of pain. I had so many reasons to dread this wake and funeral, but now Steve had given me yet another very real reason to wish this were all just a very bad dream.


	16. Chapter 16

Wednesday arrived much more quickly than I wanted it to. I hadn't gone by the Curtis house again except for a brief visit with Chris and James on Sunday. We'd been driving around running errands when we just spontaneously decided to stop in and see how they were doing. It was a nice visit. James is always a good distraction, and Pony had a good time playing with him. Even Darry cracked a smile.

None of us were smiling three days later. Tom came into English that day looking completely sullen and refusing to make eye contact with me. Just from living next door, he had to know the wake was today, and from the look on his face, I could tell he most certainly did. But he didn't participate in class, and he left without saying a word. I just hoped he'd decide to stop by the funeral home. I knew the Curtis boys would most definitely appreciate it. I knew I would too.

I didn't go home that afternoon. My mom had once again generously agreed to keep James at home with her, and Chris had said he'd meet me at the funeral home after he got out of work, so I just decided to stay in school and get some work done. Concentration wasn't my strong point that day, but I knew I'd be better off staying there anyway. Once I get home, I am much less likely to want to leave again even when I know I'll have to. And this was something that I was _definitely_ not itching to go to. Nobody was.

The afternoon dragged on. It seemed like I saw every minute tick by on the clock, but when it was finally time to leave, I felt like I was walking underwater. I couldn't imagine that I had ever dreaded something so much in my life although I knew that wasn't true. But this was way up there on my list.

By the time I got to the funeral home, there were already a few cars there. I identified Darry and Pony's car immediately, but I wondered who the others were as I walked up to the door. I took a deep breath before I walked inside. I knew that I was about to enter the sickly smell of flowers and death and wanted to put it off for as long as possible. But there is no putting off the inevitable, so I steeled myself and pulled open the door.

It almost seemed like a joke. Seeing a name like Sodapop on one of the signs in one of those places is like a jolt of unreality, but this was real. I felt a chill course down my spine, and I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat and walked into the room. Darry and Pony were in the first two seats in the first row, and they were talking to a woman who I assumed must live in their neighborhood. I didn't recognize her, but she just looked like the neighborly-bring-over-pie-in-case-of-crisis type. She hovered over them, talking, so I walked slowly to the front of the room. I was staring at the coffin, draped with the American flag, and I didn't even turn to look at the boys yet. I knelt in front of the coffin (which is something I generally avoid, but I couldn't avoid Soda), and I bent my head. The tears were perilously close, and I could feel Darry and Pony's eyes on my back, so I sniffed and tried to relax. I wanted to be strong for them. I didn't want them to feel like they had to watch out for me. I didn't know how good I'd be at that, though. I finally stood and turned.

The woman from the neighborhood was still talking to Darry, but Pony was staring at me, and his eyes were full. I could see it from where I stood, and I didn't know what to do. Well, I did, but I was afraid, and I wasn't sure why. This certainly wasn't the first time I'd seen Pony this upset, and I couldn't believe my reluctance … which dissipated the moment I saw the tear roll down his face. It was like it released my legs, and I went straight to him, my arms opening as I walked. He fell into my shoulder, and I could feel my hair slowly dampening under the steady stream of his tears. He didn't make many loud noises, but the soft sobs broke my heart, and I held on as tightly as I could.

When he finally let go, he sat back down and let out an explosive breath. He didn't turn to look at Darry, which was ok because Darry was staring at me, waiting for his turn, I quickly realized. His own eyes were hard, but I could see his mask start to chip as I looked at him. He quickly put his arms out for a hug, I assumed, so I would stop looking at him. The minute my arms went around him, though, I could hear him sigh like a tire deflating, and his arms tightened around me when I tried to let go. As soon as I heard his breath start to become labored, I sighed inwardly. I'd known he'd need this, but I didn't know if he'd give into it. Right now, it didn't seem now like he had much of a choice. He buried his face in my shoulder much the same way Pony had, and I held on tightly as he shook slightly with the sobs he could no longer control. I closed my eyes as I felt the tears welling up in them. I'd expected Pony to be in worse shape since he usually was. It was almost too hard to see and hear Darry like this, but I knew that was unfair, so I just waited until he was ready to let go.

It took him longer to calm down, another surprise, and when he finally did, he sat down too, and I stood in front of them awkwardly. There was really nothing I could say, so I asked if they needed anything, and Pony reached out for my hand.

"Just sit with us for a while?" he asked plaintively, and I immediately dropped into the seat beside him. I wished there were more I could do, but I also knew that small gestures like this were the ones that often resonated and meant the most. I squeezed his hand, but he didn't let go, and so I sat there with them for another hour until the most unexpected and welcome person walked in the door.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: I needed some kind of chapter here, but the next one will be longer. I promise.

Mrs. Mathews stood there, her eyes anguished, but her expression calm. She knew this pain, as we all knew, and I'd never expected her to find the strength to come to this funeral, especially so soon after Two Bit's… but I recognized Darry and Pony's need for a mother, and it was clear that she did too. As much as I can be a big sister, that's all I can be. And sometimes… that's not enough.

I watched as Pony and Darry both rose unsteadily. Darry reached for her first, and she smoothed his hair, whispering something I couldn't hear but something he clearly needed to. His eyes filled, and he closed them, hugging her tightly. When he finally let go, his breathing seemed calmer to me. But then it was Pony's turn, and the moment Mrs. Mathews put her arms around him, he fell apart worse than I'd seen yet. A mother's touch can do that every time, I think. She held him tightly, and he slowly calmed down.

I had to turn away and give him time to recover himself. I'd seen enough. My eyes fell on the side of the room where some of their friends were sitting. The boys were staring at their feet and making every effort to avoid looking towards the front of the room. The girls, on the other hand, stared at Pony, transfixed. As sensitive as I know he is, I also know that not many of his friends would know this in the same way I do. This weakness was not something any of them would necessarily expect.

When I heard Pony start to take deep breaths, I turned back. He finally let go of Mrs. Mathews, and she touched his cheek. "You boys know I'm around if you need anything, right?" she asked, addressing both of them. They nodded and even tried to smile. Pony sat back down and grabbed my hand again, and Mrs. Mathews turned suddenly to me.

"I'm glad to see you here," she said simply, and I heard everything she wasn't saying as well. We looked at each other and nodded. It was clear to both of us how much Darry and Pony needed and how much they hated asking for it. I knew we would do everything in our power to see that they didn't have to.

"I'm going to sit right over there," she said to Darry then, gesturing to the side of the room, and he nodded because a slew of people had just walked in the door, Steve among them. My heart dropped when I saw his sunglasses. This was going to be just as hard as it possibly could be. He joined the end of the line, and I kept my eyes on him as he made his slow way to the coffin. He didn't look at us, but I knew he'd seen me. And I knew he knew I was watching him.

I was so busy watching that it took me a full minute to register that Tom was standing before us with his parents. I jolted back to the present when I realized that he was clearly waiting for me to acknowledge him as his parents gave their condolences to the Curtises. He was white, and his face was pained, but he was there, and I felt a swelling of pride. I instinctively opened my arms and wasn't at all surprised when he reciprocated immediately. I hugged him tightly for a moment, giving him a chance to regain as much composure as possible, and when we let go, he turned to Pony and threw his arms around him, hugging him hard. Pony didn't expect it, but as Tom buried his face in Pony's shoulder, I could see from the way he started to pat Tom on the back that he knew that this was hard for Tom too.

And then Steve was standing before us. Darry was hugging Tom when he finally approached, and he disentangled himself as gently as he could. Tom stumbled after his parents, his head down, hair in his eyes, but I only had eyes for one person at that moment… and he only had eyes for us.

He still had his sunglasses on, but as the three of us stared at him, he slowly took them off, and the sight of his red swollen eyes brought back the lump in my throat. I glanced down at my feet, and I only looked back up when I heard movement and realized that the three of them were crashing together in a hug so tight that I knew nothing could ever break this apart. It was clear to anyone watching them right then that none of them would allow it.


	18. Chapter 18

Things started to settle down a little after Steve showed up. It was like we'd all been holding our breaths until he arrived, and now they were as complete as they ever could be; there was nothing more to wait for.

We were sitting there in stupefied silence when Chris finally arrived from work. I watched him come in, and before he even came to me, he, too, knelt before Soda. He'd loved him too. Everybody had. When he turned to come to us, he was paler than I'd ever remembered seeing him, and he hugged Pony and Darry for a long time. He finally broke away from them and came back to me, looking somewhat worse for the wear. He took the seat beside me and held my hand tightly, and I wished this were all a bad dream.

In another hour, the rest of the people started to leave, and I came out my self-imposed trance. I turned to Pony and Darry and said quietly, "we're going to go now, ok?"

Pony shook himself out of his own little stupor and looked a little panic-stricken.

"Do you – do you have to? Can you wait until we go too?" he asked, trying to keep the urgency out of his voice, but I could read it in his eyes, and so could Chris. He squeezed my shoulder, and I turned to see him nodding slightly, so I turned back to Pony.

"Yeah, ok. We'll wait."

His whole body seemed to relax. "Ok," he said, leaning back in his chair once again.

I turned to Chris and whispered, "Do you want me to stay, and you can go to my mom's and get James? It's not like we'll need to follow each other home or anything."

He glanced past me at the boys and must have realized how difficult this was going to be when it ended, and he looked back at me.

"You really think you can do this alone? It's going to be bad."

"I know," I said, "but it's ok. I can handle it. You go on. I'll meet you at home soon."

He took one more look at the situation and finally must have decided he believed me… that and that he was glad I was sparing him something even he might not have been able to handle. He stood up and approached Pony and Darry once more, this time just shaking hands with each of them, and then I watched him walk out, his shoulders slumped.

I turned back to them and was unsurprised when Steve moved into the seat Chris had vacated. He'd been sitting on his other side, but I knew he wanted to be closer, and I was also not surprised when he put his arm across the back of my chair. I know how much he needs contact and also how much he hates admitting it.

When the viewing finally came to an end, we waited until everyone else had gone, and then Darry turned to Pony and Steve.

"Do you two have anything you want to say?" he asked, his voice unnaturally low. Now that we were alone, his guard was coming down again. I could hear it in his voice, and I knew if he'd look up, I'd see it in his eyes.

They glanced at their feet and then back at Darry and both of them nodded. I didn't want to hear what either of them had to say to Soda now, so I started to inch to the back of the room, but Darry's eyes arrested me. He'd finally looked up, and they said one thing: Stay.

So I did. I stayed and watched each of them lose the battle against tears. I stayed while they each hugged me in turn, drenching my shoulder in tears. I stayed while they hugged each other. And I stayed while I couldn't understand how we were ever going to make it through the funeral.


	19. Chapter 19

We had one day's reprieve before we had to face each other again for the funeral, but that day was no easier than any of the previous ones had been thanks to my job … and Tom.

I knew it would be hard for him to see me again. I was getting to know him in a capacity very different from the image he projected in school everyday, and he was at a loss for how to handle it. So he handled it, of course, by slouching into class the day after we'd seen each other at the wake and sitting down in his seat without ever acknowledging my existence. It would be unfair of me to press him to behave in any other way, so I ignored this and treated him as I always had.

I never expected to see him again that day. He, however, has a tendency to surprise me. I don't think he even knew he was in my classroom until I looked up from my grading and stared at him with the most level gaze I could manage. It was hard, though. He really was the last person I'd thought would come see me.

Neither of us spoke for a moment. He leaned against a desk in the first row, facing me, and I looked back at him. I didn't know what he wanted me to say, so I decided to wait until he spoke. I'd just about decided he wasn't going to, though, and I'd looked back down at the papers on my desk when he forced out the words he'd obviously been keeping inside all day, given the way his voice was suddenly shaking.

"I don't know how they're doing this, Mrs. Nelson," he said, sinking into the seat he'd been trying to lean against casually. He stared down at the surface for a minute before looking back up at me. His eyes were suspiciously bright, but he seemed intent on ignoring this and clearly expected me to do the same.

I nodded, afraid to say anything that would upset him further but feeling the need to say at least this one thing.

"It's hard, obviously," I said softly, "but I know they appreciated you coming yesterday. And – " I paused for a minute, noticing him blush, but I continued. "I'm proud of you," I added. "I know how hard that was."

Now the blush was gone, but he was also no longer looking up. "Thanks," he mumbled his voice shaking so violently, I was amazed he managed to get that one word out at all.

"Of course," I said quietly. I sat there, watching him out of the corner of my eye. It was clear that he was having a very hard time with all of this, and while it was completely understandable, it also made me feel completely helpless. I was glad he was coming to me to talk, obviously, but all it succeeded in doing was making me care about him even more… which in turn made me more worried and upset. I didn't know WHAT he'd do if John met the same fate as Soda…

Soda… I had managed to keep him out of my mind for most of the day, but now he was back in the forefront with the grin he'd always had on his face. Suddenly, though, I remembered what he looked like the last time I'd seen him when he'd left for boot camp. His tear-filled eyes filled my mind, and that lump was back in my throat again. He hadn't known then that he'd never see his brothers again, but somehow… I thought he did. He'd done everything in his power to make sure they knew he loved them, and I just hoped that John had done the same for Tom.

"Have … have you heard from John?" I managed to ask Tom. I knew my voice sounded strained, but I thought it very likely that Tom would be too caught up in his own worries right now to even notice. I was right.

He shook his head, though. This was not the answer I wanted, and my heart sank. I tried to steady my voice when I said "Well, let me know when you do. I wonder how things are going over there."

It took me a moment to realize that Tom had looked up and was staring at me. A tear had escaped and was sliding down his face, but he made no effort to wipe it away as he stared at me with all of the fear he'd tried to hide during English.

"What if he doesn't come home?" he suddenly asked, his voice hoarse and urgent.

But I had no answer, and I knew better now than to make empty promises.

"You keep doing what you're doing," I said, getting up from my desk at last. I couldn't ignore this blatant plea for comfort. I pulled a chair over to him as I'd done once before, expecting to just rest a hand on his shoulder as I'd done last time, but he surprised me when he threw his arms around me, buried his face in my hair and just let go.

I held on tightly as his shoulders shook with the sobs he'd clearly been forcing back all day, and I wished there were more I could do to reassure him, but I knew the only thing that would do that would be a letter from his brother.

All I could hope to do now was change the subject, but the only topic that came to mind was one neither of us wanted to discuss. I said it anyway as I could feel his breathing start to steady. He pulled away and drew his hand across his eyes, looking slightly embarrassed but more relieved.

"Are you going to the funeral?" I asked, and he stiffened slightly, but he nodded.

"Yeah, with my parents. Will you – will you be there again?"

I nodded, and I could see him relax slightly.

"Good," he said simply. I smiled at him. It was one word… but it helped. A lot.


	20. Chapter 20

The morning of the funeral dawned cool and sunny. That was one small relief. These things are hard enough without having to fight with umbrellas and galoshes too. Chris and I got ready together without speaking. I didn't know when I'd ever really want to say anything again. My mouth felt like it was frozen shut, my words a column of ice in my throat. But considering Chris was barely glancing in my direction, it seemed like there was a good chance that he understood.

We got to the church early because we had to drop James off with my mom yet again. I didn't know how I'd ever repay her for the endless babysitting she was doing for us these days even though I knew she didn't mind. I honestly didn't know what we'd do without her.

Pony, Darry and Steve were standing outside the church, not talking to each other, not talking to anyone, when we walked over from our car. There were a few other people there as well, and I could see that they had to have been friends of the boys from the awkward way they were pacing in their suits and the uncomfortable glances they kept shooting in Pony and Darry's general direction. None of them, of course, were _approaching_ Darry or Pony, so I took advantage of the wide berth they were being given and walked straight up to them.

It took a moment before Pony realized I was standing in front of him, and when he did, he just looked at me. His eyes were red, but he seemed completely drained. I knew this calm couldn't last, but I wouldn't mind if it did, and I knew he wouldn't either. We hugged briefly, and I hugged Darry and Steve just as briefly. No one wanted any more than that, and it was with relief that Chris and I turned to walk into the church. We'd been quietly sitting halfway to the front of the church for a few minutes when Pony crouched next to me.

"Will you…will you move up? You don't have to sit next to us, but … behind us maybe?"

"Oh… oh, of course," I said, hurriedly, giving Chris a quick look that said clearly, "get up now." It must have said that pretty clearly because he hopped up and said quietly, "lead the way, Pony."

We followed him to the front of the rapidly-filling church, and as we resettled ourselves behind the boys, I glanced around. I recognized many of their friends from their days in school, and I recognized a few of my colleagues as well. I sighed as I turned back around, and Chris reached over and squeezed my hand.

"It never gets easier, does it?" he asked softly, and I shook my head. It doesn't.

The service started too soon. It's always too soon for something like this. Darry and Pony had left Steve sitting by himself because they had to walk in with the coffin, so when we all stood and turned to watch them enter, I could feel the vibrations Steve was causing against the pew. He was shaking like a leaf, and I reached out a hand to steady him, a hand he grasped as if it were a life preserver. He held on tightly as we somehow watched Darry and Pony take the longest walk of their lives. They were now each wearing sunglasses, and my heart broke in half when I felt Steve's hand tighten on mine even more and heard the unmistakable sniffle. Once Darry and Pony entered his row, he let go, though. It was time to start.

I've been to funerals before. I've sat through it all, and I've cried through a lot of it. I'd never been to anything this hard. Steve broke first. He'd already started when we were holding onto each other, and he never really got himself under control. As soon as we heard the priest say Soda's name the first time, which is usually what does me in, Steve abandoned all hope of pretense. He hunched over, his head in his hands, and sobs tore through him. My eyes filled as I watched his shoulders heaving, but there was nothing I could do. And he wasn't alone. This was the first time I'd ever heard so much crying during a service, and I knew that as much as Steve probably hated himself for this, he also had be somewhat relieved to know he wasn't in the spotlight. Nobody was.

I managed to keep my own tears to an occasional trickle when it happened. It was Pony who did me in. It always is. The service was ending, and we all stood to watch these two brothers follow the third in their last walk together, and that's when reality finally hit Pony. He'd known this was true, of course. But the finality sank in as he turned to leave the pew. I was lucky to be sitting on the end, I guess, because he was standing and then … he wasn't. He just crumbled, and Darry and I both reached out to catch him. Chris pushed me to leave with them because Pony was now clinging to both of us as if he couldn't have walked without the support, and I wasn't so sure he could. I could sense Chris walking out behind us with Steve, and then I focused all of my energies on just getting Pony outside. His eyes were firmly behind his sunglasses, but I knew he couldn't see a thing as we guided him, one foot in front of the other, out of the church.

And then we were out and as the hearse slammed shut on the coffin, Pony gasped on a sob so huge that I was surprised it didn't choke him, and before I knew what he was doing, he'd turned to me. It was a question of holding on and holding up, and I hung on tightly, trying with all of my might to calm him with sheer force of will. Somehow, whatever strength I tried to convey seemed to work, and he slowly loosened his grip and the tears slowed.

"Thanks," he said thickly, his voice hoarse. "See you at the cemetery."

Before I could even answer, he, Darry, and Steve were climbing into a limo. I watched them go and realized I was breathing heavily. I'd never been so exhausted in my life.


	21. Chapter 21

The cemetery was quiet and our feet crunched on the leaves as we walked across to meet the rest of the very small group that was meeting there. Darry had requested that the burial be private since he knew how hard this would be for Pony and, I was pretty sure, himself. He, of course, would never admit that out loud, and he'd told me, after he'd made the plans, that he'd done the same thing for his parents' funeral because Soda and Pony would need the privacy. I couldn't help but imagine that he wanted this same privacy for himself this time.

The only people there were the soldiers, who I kept trying to ignore, even though I rationally knew this wasn't their fault, Darry, Pony, Steve, Mrs. Mathews, a couple of their friends who looked vaguely familiar to me, and the two of us. Like I said… a very small group. Once we'd all assembled, the priest looked questioningly at Darry, and he gave a brief nod. It was clear to me that it was the last thing he wanted to do, but this had to happen, whether he acknowledged it or not.

I tried to tune out the priest's words once again as I clasped Chris's hand tightly. This time, we were standing next to the boys. Well, I was next to Darry. Pony stood between him and Steve, and Mrs. Mathews was beside Steve. The assorted friends stood in a loose semi-circle on the other side of the grave, but I kept my head down so I wouldn't have to see their faces as they watched their friend being buried. It wasn't _their_ faces, though, that I was trying to avoid, as I had to admit to myself. I was more aware than anything of Darry's stiff silence beside me, and the tension he was emanating was unbearable. Pony, at least, was sniffling, and I knew Steve was doing the same because, out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Mrs. Mathews had put her hand on Steve's shoulder. Darry did have his hand on Pony's back, but it was Darry who was worrying me now. Pony, at least, was letting it out. As much as I dreaded seeing Darry cry… I knew he needed to. Unfortunately, I also knew what might provoke his tears.

That's when I realized that we had reached the part of the service that would undoubtedly bring my own. The shovel hit the mound, and as the dirt thudded onto the coffin, I felt as though someone had doused me with ice water. Chris's grip tightened on my hand, and I stared furiously at the now-blurry ground, trying to wrest these tears under control. If I were right… and I knew, unfortunately, that I was… Darry was going to need my strength more than anything else right about now. And as I slowly turned to look at him, I knew I was right. He was staring at the now-dirt-covered coffin, but when he realized I was looking at him, he turned to me. His eyes showed me all of the pain he was trying to hold back, and I knew that as hard as it would be, I couldn't let him do this any longer. He needed and deserved to grieve just as much as everyone else.

I let go of Chris's hand slowly and turned to face Darry, who was now staring at me in desperation. Neither of us had spoken, but he knew I was ready to hug him, and he was afraid. He still cherished that mask, that imperturbable face he turned to the world, but it was time for it to come down.

I stepped in to him, and his arms opened almost against his will.

I wrapped my arms around his unyielding shoulders, and I whispered, "It's ok, Darry. You're allowed to feel just as bad as everyone else. Doesn't Soda deserve that much?"

It was a terrible thing to say, but his Adam's apple bobbed so jerkily that I couldn't imagine how painful it must be for him to keep swallowing that lump in his throat. "Darry… it's for Soda," I murmured. "It's ok. He would understand."

And with that… his floodgates opened. Because it was true. Soda would understand where no one else would, and I had inadvertently reinforced what the absence of this much-loved brother would be. As Darry's shoulders shook violently, I held on just as I'd held onto Pony outside the church. I wished they would hold onto each other, but I knew that would come later. Sometimes … we can't explain who our comfort is. We just know what we need, and I was just glad I could be there to provide it.


End file.
